A MONTH ON THE PIG FARM

from Sherborne Times July 2023

ISLE OF WIGHT TOMATOES

For goodness sake, how can I possibly be writing my July article already?! All those times we were told as children ‘time goes so much faster the older we get’ must mean I am getting old(er). I certainly feel older today – it’s a grey Monday morning and the day after our big Open Farm Sunday event and we are exhausted. I am alone on the farm today as I drove Charlotte to Bristol airport this morning at 4am for her to fly to Paris for 36 hours to visit a sick relative. I dropped her off and started on the journey home, only to get a phone call 15 minutes into my return journey –her flight was cancelled! No notice, no email, no sorry, just her being told that she should rebook on a flight in the afternoon, to an airport further away and no they can’t help her book it. The poor level of service leaves me almost speechless. So poor Charlotte who is so tired she can hardly keep her eyes open has to sit in the airport for 9 hours. Contrast this with yesterday, here at the farm – our fifth Open Farm Sunday event – and how our staff, Charlotte and I went out of our way to try and make sure everyone had a great day.

The build-up to these big events is always a slow burn, with plenty of time left as we methodically plough through both of our lists – Charlotte’s mostly involves baking for 800 people. I don’t know how she does it really. For me, it’s everything outside, making sure everything is as perfect as possible – the grass cut neatly, signs up everywhere giving people information and pig paddocks all neat and tidy. As the day approaches the list suddenly gets longer not shorter, things that have been forgotten, left to the last minute. Then it’s the day – we are up even earlier, running on coffee and not much else, surrounded by mountains of the best home-cooked food, neither of us can eat. Charlotte methodically sets the cafe up before all the staff arrive. I am doing a good impression of Anneka Rice, running here and there, getting faster and faster until there is no more time. I run in and change into cafe clothes, apron on. Charlotte and I hug each other and know that we will be like ships in the night for the next few hours.

At 10am on the dot the first cars roll in and park in the field – a trickle for the first few minutes and then it builds into a heady throng, people everywhere. I am stationed behind the coffee machine, working it as hard as it can go, cups piled high – another Charlotte next to me frothing the milk for the river of coffee we have to make. The queue is manageable, just. Charlotte’s food mountain which would have rivalled some of the old food mountains in the EEC (remember those?!) starts to be disassembled – the scotch egg pyramid goes down quickly.

Outside I hear hundreds of people, our band for the day start playing. I haven’t even seen them but they have played for us so many times they just get on with it. From behind the counter, I hear Theya’s beautiful voice drifting towards me, fitting the vibe perfectly. Somehow for a moment we have beaten the queue and I step outside into the garden – the lawn is packed with people enjoying themselves. In the field below Len and Luke are ferrying everyone in trailer rides and quad bikes all over the farm. This for many is the highlight of the day – the dust is flying high with all the dry weather we have had. I have been worried about the dust – it’s not something we normally have to think of! Charlotte is carving our hog roast and serves lunch with a smile as another wiggly queue forms. thestorypig.co.uk

The one blot on the horizon, literally, is the weather. After no rain for nearly 5 weeks and a perfect forecast all week, it suddenly changes to 50% chance of thunderstorms. The air is heavy, people murmur about rain drops and many are dressed in flip-flops. The band put up our gazebo to protect their equipment and I am sure that act alone was enough to ward off the rains as we escape with a 1-minute shower. We were in the other 50% and how glad we were!

And then, in the blink of an eye, we reached the day’s end. Our guest’s started to leave and the girls got on with tidying things away. I turned the coffee machine off, we washed and cleaned, worked as a team brought the day to a close.

‘Come on,’ I say, ‘let’s sit and have a cider (ginger beer for young ones!)’. We sat and chatted, laughed and listened to Steve and his wild stories. The young ones looked bemused, waiting to be picked up and taken away from us old farts!

So thank you to all who visited us for another Open Farm Day and to our team – our tireless worker bees and of course my Charlotte, for quietly producing an absolute miracle in the kitchen.

When we think of Italian wine we tend to think red: the great reds of Tuscany and Barolo are world-class. And expensive. Italian whites, on the other hand, are beginning to emerge; and they offer variety, fresh flavours and sensible pricing.

Italy did have a minor love affair with Chardonnay but is now confidently offering its own delightful indigenous white wines such as Fiano, Friulano and of course Pinot Grigio.

There was a tendency to look down on Pinot Grigio because it was competitively priced and always cheerful. However, if you are motoring between Germany and Italy this summer and fancy takes you through the Alto Adige,

I urge you to stop and taste Pinot Grigio (and many other white wine varieties) that will surprise and delight you.

Why has it taken us so long to find them? As a large wine-drinking nation, we tend, like many other big wine markets, to be led by the nose. When Australia first produced lovely, fruity, friendly Chardonnays at popular prices we responded enthusiastically. Then we discovered Sauvignon Blanc thanks to New Zealand finding perfect conditions in Marlborough in the north of South Island. Sauvignon Blanc was reared in the Loire Valley but both New Zealand and South Africa have shown what great value they have to offer. I have a personal love affair with the Loire Valley wines but as

Planet Earth warms up, I expect our own producers to make further gains in the market for Sauvignon Blanc. However, back to the Alto Adige. If you would really like to know Italian whites better I recommend that you look at the motoring map on your way down to the Italian lakes, Verona and Venice and refresh yourself on the way. I particularly recommend that you surprise yourself by having a glass or two of their Gewürztraminer as aperitif, or even digestif.

Elena Walch is a grower worth hunting down for her wonderfully full-flavoured wines.

This region is the home of so many good Italian white wines, both sweet and dry. The key to its success

Italian Whites

is warm days and cooler nights. The coolness of the night encourages flavour. In passing, I am very pleased to point out that we too have the conditions to produce outstanding white wines in due course.

What makes Italian white wines so good? As an agricultural country, we are inclined to think ‘goodness lies in the soil.’ That cannot be denied. However, the grape variety and climate have a lot to say. As does the skill and touch of a good winemaker. God has been kind to the Northern Italians and I encourage you to make your own investigations. The scenery is spectacular and I hope you will discover white wines you have not tried before.

Kingston House Veterinary Clinic